Grief
by Dark Horse Writer
Summary: Inspired by Phantom-Jaselin's  of Deviant Art   or Jaselin on FF  picture "Grief" for the Balthy-100 challenge prompt:Death. Slightly AU of end. Dave travels to the gravesite of his former master, knowing that he is not sure of himself even after a year..


**AN: Originally this story is inspired by Phantom-Jaselin on DA (Deviant Art for those of you who are not familiar with the site) (Jaselin on FF) picture for the Balthy-100 prompt "Death" and her picture titled "Grief". I would put in the link (for the picture), but fanfiction will not allow it. So, instead I will put it in my profile under stories I have written and the brief clause about the story. **

**At the same time I listened to Nightwish's "Nemo". Also **_**Star Wars **_**references are owned by George Lucas. This piece is angst filled, but there is a surprise at the end. **

**I do not own "The Sorcerer's Apprentice" Disney and Jerry Bruckheimer do! Please review and I hope you enjoy **_**Grief**_**. **

**Rating: K+ for language**

**Becky's POV**

Becky wasn't going to call Dave for the entire time he was gone. He had asked to go alone, and she understood. She watched him take his baggage from his and Bennet's apartment; Becky had called Bennet to say that he probably didn't want to be there that day. He never knew what went on that night when he had to attach the pole to the Rolls Royce Phantom, but he knew after whatever happened Dave really changed. The event that happened one year ago took him very hard, even though he only knew him for a condense period of time. She could understand in a way, after all even a sorcerer of the 777th degree was mortal, and Balthazar Blake was no exception.

She knew that Dave was going to an area on the border between England and Scotland for a week, that is where Balthazar, Veronica (who had died on the same night), and their master Merlin was buried. Getting his body there wasn't easy it was quite excruciating for the both of them, but Dave and Becky were successful. They were both brought over and buried close together, of course even though Dave was going to give his regrets for her, it was mostly for Balthazar because he had known him. Becky had offered at first, but seeing Dave the way he was now with his suitcase in hand and going out the door she knew he needed to do this alone. He stepped out of the apartment, Tank by her side.

**Dave's POV**

Numbness, it had been a year. It didn't feel like it, after teaching himself to become a better sorcerer to push himself, he felt all alone. Before _he_ died, he still believed he could live a normal life, after the whole night at Battery Park nothing was going to be the same. Yes, he defeated Morgana, and Horvath fled, but that night two people died, Veronica Balthazar's love, and the great (probably extraordinary is a better word, or epic Dave thought to himself) sorcerer himself.

He got out of the taxi at JFK, and went through the process, showed his passport, got his ticket, and went through the security. He was still numb, cold, and even a little bitter. For a college student, to many it would seem like he had aged. His professors noticed a difference after the whole incident, many believed it was because a family member died and knowing that he would not want to talk about it told Dave he could take some time off if he wanted. Dave being Dave, kept on with his studies, finishing the year with a 4.0, and he was still cold. He still did sorcery; he read his _Incantus_ intently and went through anything that Balthazar had told him about. He probably practiced more than he did when Balthazar was alive, Becky was worried about him (and ought to be). Before he was never this into the sorcery, but after that day he only ever thought about three things, sorcery before school, school, and Becky.

Becky had been supportive knowing that a lot had transpired in such a short period of time. He wanted to leave a person he loved, but Becky would have none of it. She knew it was the grief that he still had. Most sane people would think he is going overboard for someone he had only been in contact for three weeks (plus that one, special, if even horrible at the end day). For Dave, he really didn't care anymore, Balthazar had been able to do something that even his parents and friends were never able to do, rub off on him.

He was becoming a little insane because he had used his own money to fly, for a week no less, up to Northern England along the border of Scotland where he told Dave where Merlin was buried. Dave, along with Becky made all the plans and had the tombstone made for him. A small village man made it for him, and when they placed the order Dave could have sworn the tomb maker had a ring on his finger, and the man saw Dave's ring. No questions were asked. The tomb was of an eagle and a sword, with Balthazar's name on it, as well as _"A Faithful love, honorable sorcerer, and hero"_. Veronica's was made as well, and inscribed to. The ceremony was small, and after a week left.

He decided, if anything he should get some sleep, however hard it seemed for him to get nowadays. The same image of Balthazar's still form was a constant reminder that he didn't do enough. He felt oddly clichéd, and how he wished that someone or another that he would see Balthazar joking at him and making him do plasma bolts again. He even had the crazy idea that he would appear to him, in a blue ghost form, like a Jedi from Star Wars. He had to get his mind under control, that certainly was never going to happen, that was still fantasy (even if he wished it wasn't).

He awoke to find that he had arrived. It was raining, the numbness was still there. He had told everyone he knew not to call him, unless it was an extreme emergency (and that meant like Becky getting kidnapped by Horvath or something). He checked his cellphone, no texts or calls. He called a taxi to take his things to the small inn where he booked his room. He was tired, but decides to screw it. He notices it is raining, wonderful, whatever he goes in his clothes. The dampness doesn't improve his mood he does not care. Not anymore, he would complain, normally he does.

He walks to where he sees a keep partly destroyed and sees a light forest and trudges his feet in that direction. No one heads to this forest, out of respect or out of superstition who knows, considering that the place was where Merlin was buried. Today was the anniversary of the defeat of Morgana Le Fae, and the death of the single most important person who changed Dave's life in more one way. He was the father he never really had, the one person who believed in him when at times he did not believe himself, the one person to make the jokes and the embarrassing comments ("anti-itch cream") he had to choke back and sob and a laugh at the same time.

The rain was falling freely and the grey to dark grey sky kept with Dave's feelings until he saw what he was looking for, the gothic tombstone with the eagle and sword on it. A perfect fitting for Balthazar's person, Dave thought when he thought about the design of the tombstone. He would think Balthazar would snigger at Dave being overdramatic, and Dave would retort that he was the overdramatic one. A stinging sensation could be felt in his chest; it hurt to think about him. He knows that he has to get over it, after all it has been a year but it feels so much longer.

He trudged up to the face and saw the vase in front of the tombstone, odd because it was not there before. Seeing the eagle on top is where Dave broke, he sat his back against the cool granite. The tears came freely, mixing with the rain as well as memories that have plagued his mind, the eagle that Balthazar took off of the Chrysler Building to save him from the pack of wolves Horvath had summoned from the calendar. The same night he fought the dragon from the sorcerer of Sun-Lok. The day he knew his life changed, more than he could ever imagine. What Dave did not notice as he was sitting against the cold marble and the rain cascading off of the tombstone, or the rain making the Eagle look like it was crying was a faint shadow in the distance.

**The shadow's perspective…..**

He looked at the scene in front of him. He should kill him right now, he was vulnerable, unprotected, and no one would hear his screams. He was rather childish sitting beside a tombstone with his knees bent and head bowed tears streaming. He should, but he couldn't. Not even Maxim Horvath could kill him. He looked a few feet to the left and saw Veronica's tombstone and grave as well, and even further down his old Master, Merlin. He couldn't kill the darn kid even if he wanted too, he gave his former friends and colleagues what they deserved, next to the man who had raised them and taught them everything he knew. How fitting for his heir to be here, and yet from every negative feeling towards the boy who ruined his plans he could not help but think that he was intruding a private moment.

From this position, he knew since that day back in the lab that Balthazar had taken a liking to the physics student and fledgling sorcerer for whatever reason or another. Morgana, his previous mistress, would believe him weak not to strike him now, but he was done with this. If Balthazar was alive, it would be different, but now it wasn't worth the fight. He wanted peace, and he doubt he would ever get it. He knew he was dammed, and to be honest he knew that there was no redemption for what he did.

He put his friends in danger, killed his master, all over the fact of jealousy that Veronica had chosen Balthazar over him. He was deranged, and he would never admit it to anyone and even himself. He had placed Balthazar's favorite vase of all things in front of the tombstone, the one he stole to put flowers in for Veronica when he was younger. He somehow was able to find it, and see it wasn't destroyed. It felt lousy and inadequate, but since he really couldn't make a live apology this was the best he could think of. After all, in the end Veronica had chosen Balthazar over him, and now he knew why. He was a terrible person. He would leave Dave and his blonde girlfriend alone. He was never going to do magic again.

He didn't cry, he hadn't in a long, long time, but seeing the sight of his supposed enemy made him feel like the biggest jerk ever, even worse than that cultural icon that he kept hearing about _Star Wars_ and that one character Anakin Skywalker, who supposedly betrayed his best friend and went to the side of evil, but in the end redeemed himself. He felt like he was even worse than Anakin Skywalker, and Brutus from _Julies Caesar_ who betrayed his king. Maxim Horvath was in his own category. He left the scene knowing he was going to give the kid his privacy, but he could have sworn he felt light warmth spread to his shoulder and turned back to the graveyard. He was imagining things.

**Dave's POV**

Dave did not know how long he had sat on the soaking ground, but for some reason it didn't bother him. Every image of his former master came and went, all the jibes, praises, annoyances, and look in his eye came crashing down on him. For three, short, and they were short, _too short_, weeks he had a constant presence. Of showing him of a greater world, he was purely thinking about his little benign troubles and wants, when the man was teaching him something greater, and he had fought for over a thousand years. How much gratitude did he have, almost none.

Yes, he saved his life, how many times? From him, Drake, Horvath, Morgana, and all he did was what, complain? How stupid of him! The man was ten centuries and older, he had seen and experience more than any single person should. He complained that any kid would to his parent. That it isn't fair, he was the stupider than Sarah from "Labyrinth" he felt like he wasn't a Luke Skywalker for the fact that even Luke did not complain to his master Obi-Wan (well except finding about his father that is).

This is why he wanted to be alone, he knew that if Balthazar was alive that he should get over this grief and keep on living his life. To spend time with Becky, continue with his studies both scholarly and sorcery related. To explore his limits in the art, and to see where his strengths lies. He wouldn't want Dave to be sitting by his tombstone and cry about it, and even in the afterlife Dave still felt that he was selfish. He, the Prime Merlinian, Merlin's heir was selfish. He let the tears trickle down, what would Balthazar think of him now?

"Dave" Dave snapped his eyes open, it was a soft whisper of a sound, barely audible against the rain and wind, but the voice was unconceivable. It couldn't' be. He looked around and saw nothing, except the trees, plants and darkening grey sky. He realized that he was soaked, and most likely going to catch his death but at this point in time did not really care. He looked at his watch, he skipped lunch, and it was nearing dinner. Only now he noticed he was hungry, but at this exact moment he was not. He was imagining things. It was at that moment Dave felt a warm feeling on his shoulder, and it shouldn't be warm considering it was cold, rainy, and windy.

"Selfish? Really Dave, come on now, a bad liar yes, but selfish? Never."

It couldn't be, the voice was a touch louder, with the wry humor in it. When the voice whispered bad liar, Dave had to hold back a laugh and a sob at the same time. He didn't know if he was losing it, or if the lack of food was playing tricks on his brain, but the voice was Balthazar's and the warm feeling continue and even felt like Balthazar's hand on him. His brain was thinking impossible, but to be completely honest he didn't care, really didn't. He liked this feeling, even if he knew it was not going to last. Dave didn't know why but he said,

"You know you're not helping here!" In his exasperated nasally voice the hoarseness could be heard. The warm feeling left his shoulder and the whispery voice he heard again,

"Dave, you need to let go, go on with your life, you can't keep doing this to yourself," It was a solemn sort of whisper Dave had to hold back a bark of bitter laughter, really this was getting to be a hallucination of sorts. The cold rain was getting inside his head making him think less intelligible thoughts. His master would never want him to give up on anything, he always wanted perfection. But the overwhelming grief kept building; he really should not be indulging himself.

"I can't, Balthazar." He hadn't spoken his name in the entirety of the year, and hearing it out loud brought more pain than he could ever imagine. He really was starting to become not a bit crazy, but severely crazy. His body was rocked with sobs. He really needed to stop.

"You can, and you will. I will always be with you Dave," Dave really had it now; the guy was going with all the clichés in the book. He snarked back,

"I thought at least you would be a bit more original, come on Star Wars references?" he heard a light chuckle in the wind, and warmth and he could feel a weight to the warmth, as like a person putting their hands on one's shoulders. Like the first warm feeling, but now there was the added warmth on his other shoulder.

"It works doesn't it? But Dave, go back, continue your studies, spend time with Becky, don't ever forget, but let go, move on and become the person I believe you will be, and still will be," Dave at that time felt like he was ten years old again when Balthazar told him he was going to be a powerful sorcerer one day. He didn't know if it was a hallucination or his brain playing tricks on him, but when he stood up the warmth was still there and maybe it was the rain and his lack of food in his stomach, but the rain coming down outlined a man Dave once knew and he thought for a blink of a second he could see Balthazar's face, but then it was gone. Dave knew he needed to eat. He got up, and knew he would bring some flowers for Veronica, Balthazar, and even Merlin whose grave was not far out of respect the next day.

As Dave left the forest area, he stroked the miniature steel eagle on the tombstone to take the tears away (even though he knew they were not really tears at all but the water droplets from the rain), and if Dave had saw behind him, which he didn't, he would have noticed a whispery figure of the wind with a long black duster leather coat, black hat, long curly blonde locks smiling seeing as the person he knew a year ago had changed, and was heart breaking not to know him longer, but knew when the time came, and when it did, that Dave is going to accomplish great things. After all, even though he prided himself being original in more than one way, he knew that Dave was a Luke Skywalker in his own right; of course, the pointy old man shoes would have to do without a lightsaber. They were cooler anyways he thought as he disappeared into the wind. Knowing that even though this was hard for him, that he had seen Dave and _knew_ what he was capable of.

**AN: I hope you enjoyed reading this, please review, and this is a one-shot**


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